I wonder if I visit your thoughts
the way you’ve made a home in mine,
uninvited, constant,
quietly refusing to leave.
Do you think of me at all,
or did I fade the moment I was gone?
Was I just a chapter you closed
without ever looking back at the pages?
Because I still find you everywhere,
in songs, in silence, in the spaces between words.
And it aches not knowing
if I exist anywhere in you anymore.
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Author:
Entangled heart (
Offline) - Published: March 22nd, 2026 08:59
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 24
Offline)
Comments1
To be edited out of one's book is a frightening thought like unto being erased from history your own relevance questioned. Strong thoughts in this poem
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